Learning to Breathe
by Angiil
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy have been enemies for the past six years, just how will they handle spending their last and most important school year together? Read to find out!
1. The one with the arguing

Chapter 1- The one with the arguing

"Filthy little mudblood, you're all the same!"

"You're nothing but a evil little cockroach!"

Those were the screams coming from the Head Common room at 10:36 PM, October 28th. Of course Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin, not to mention Head Boy was using his usual 'mudblood' curse at Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor, and Head Girl. How the Professors came across the conclusion to pair them, Hermione or Draco would never know, because all they did was fight for the two months they had been trapped together.

Tonight it was because Draco was making another comment about her famous and loyal best friend Harry Potter.

"You missed duty to make out with your little conniving, full-of-himself friend, Potter!" Draco accused.

"As if! Do you think any thing I ever dream of doing with Harry is one: Any of your concern or two: ever be half as horrible as the way you and Pansy carry on?" Hermione screamed, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, because I was making out with Harry," She said rolling her eyes, "That I fell asleep in class today because Pansy's annoying gasps for air and moans of (can you believe it) PLEASURE kept me up all night!"

"Good! Maybe you learned some thing! Because pleasure is some thing that you're never going to gain or get by sticking with Potter and Weasel..." Draco lied, sure Pansy had enjoyed last night but Draco had been suffering in misery. He always had been, with Parkinson clinging on to him, whispering annoying things in his ears...at least this was a good way to intimidate a certain virgin mudblood.

"I don't know what Pansy finds in you...maybe she actually is that stupid!" Hermione said, trying to scrape the bottom of the barrel for things to find probably because that had no complete impact at all, at least Draco made himself believe that, and every thing else she said was meaningless.

"Listen Granger, I don't care about what you have to say...I actually don't care about you at all," Draco stated simply, "So I'm going to bed...and as much as I enjoyed taking points from Gryffindor tonight I missed seeing the look of horror on your face when I did so, so please don't miss duty tomorrow mudblood,"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed, walking to the over stuffed black couch and picking up her bag, he watched her walk pass his room, the bathroom then to her room. Which in the process of closing the door, she slammed it. Draco smirked and walked into his room. Getting to her every night was starting to rub off. He did all he could, letting Pansy devour him to keep her from sleep, call her the worst things in Merlin's mind to make her too depressed to sleep, and fight with her so long that by the time she went to her room she had not done any work, and had to complete it during her sleeping hours.

She was missing sleep. So she had it in class, and the Professor's took points. And she always looked less then 80 percent perfect...bags under her eyes, hair not combed, robes unruly and every thing disorganized, but it amused Draco to think she probably didn't even care about her appearance. Draco slumped down on to his bed and guessed if she had no work tonight she would probably just be catching up on sleep.

Draco let his eyes close and he drifted off into a sleep, only dreaming of the names he would call Hermione Granger the mudblood the very next day. He had been calling her mostly only mudblood, it was really the only thing wrong with her, other than she was a know-it-all, being clever was fine. But showing it off as she did was sickening. Just because she knew some thing any one else didn't, never meant she had to brag about it.

Oh, and another flaw, possibly the biggest of all. Her friendship with Potter, sure, not as worse as the muggle blood flowing through her veins but almost as bad. Potter and Granger had some thing in common, they were full of themselves. They always told him he was as well, but about being famous and smart is how they did it. What else did he have to do to fight back but brag that he was obviously better looking, cleaner, and better then them? In ways it was true, in ways he was modest, but in most he had to admit he was just fooling himself.

Sure Granger had muggle parents and lived in the muggle world. But was that truly as bad as where he lived, where Death Eater meetings were held at least once a week, where death, slaughter and torture took place. At first he found it hard to believe that his father was a murder and evil, but then it made a lot of sense.

He remembered once last summer, interrupting one of the meetings...after the Death Eaters had left to return to their apparent good Wizarding lives he remembered the pain his father gave him with the crutacious curse. 'You are not to know these things until you are given the dark mark,' He had never told his father, but being a Death Eater wasn't the only thing he wanted in life, it was actually probably the last thing he wanted in life. Sure he liked putting Granger down, but for fun, not for the fact he knew he might just kill her one day.

He knew he had said in second year, he wished the Baskalisk would kill her...but after seeing his father commit so many murders he Draco Malfoy regretted ever breathing such words. She was innocent, that was why. What had she ever done to deserve death? She was just muggle born, and though she didn't belong here, she didn't deserve to die because of it. He would admit when she hit him in Third year, he had gone over board but the raging mudblood had matured since then and like him only used verbal attacks, for he would never hit Granger. One because she was surprisingly a girl (her lack of not looking at her face every morning would give you doubts) and two because she was a mudblood. He didn't need the dirt. Just because she didn't deserve to die in his eyes didn't mean she still wasn't filthy, that was the only thing he agreed with, with his father, but he would never tell his father that for risk of more pain.

But would pain ever need be a fear in his future? He was sure if he faltered once as a Death Eater he would be killed and punished by Voldemort. There was nothing he could do...there was no one who could help...he just had to play along and only welcome the quickest death.


	2. The one where she won't give up

Chapter 2- The one where she won't give up

The next day Hermione had showed up for duty. Hermione hugged Harry and walked over to Malfoy to start duty. Hermione said nothing to Malfoy, and never retorted or replied to any of his comments. Hermione would just look up and mutter to herself every time he spoke 'don't let him get the better of you this time', under her breath over and over again, yet he never heard her. When after a half hour full of name calling came with no response, he finally asked, "what's wrong with you Granger?"

"Nothing Malfoy," She said, saying the password and entering the port whole. He followed behind her through the whole then she walked to her room, "I'm not playing your game any more,"

"Then you will admit I've won?" Malfoy said stepping towards her.

"You've won?" She gasped, "But-But that's-No. This isn't over," She said walking into her room and slamming the door shut. She thought this would be simple, telling him she didn't want to fight any more. But she missed the whole point, which would mean he's won, she could never let him win. She had to prove not every pureblood could make a muggle born suffer, as his stereotypical mind believed, she had to prove him wrong.

She could still hear him laughing evilly even when the door was closed, but it soon faded when she heard his door shut as well. He had not called over Pansy again tonight...he was losing his touch at getting to her, which was good for her, except for this minor glitch. If only he wasn't slimy, and judged people. If only his father, the follower of Voldemort, didn't teach him that a muggle born like her were less important. Maybe then this year would be civilized, but she knew she had no hope of that.

Since even first year, she knew he was horrible. He hadn't yet been horrible to her, but to her new friends Ron and Harry he was bad enough. In second year is when he took her on, his father probably noticed her parents weren't Wizarding folk in Diagon Alley and then gave Draco a reason to bring her down, apart from the fact she sided with his fathers Lord's worst enemy.

Hermione had never done any thing personally wrong to Draco. He acted this way only to look better then her, she didn't even like competing or fighting. There was once in third year where she had gotten out of control and hit Draco, but he had been asking for it and it was definitely worth it, the relief felt great.

But then it was back to reality. She was lucky enough no Professors saw her hit him, but she couldn't use physical contact to rage her anger any more. It was all verbal attacks. She preferred it that way, though. She could find more flaws for him. All he had was that she was smart and that she was muggle-born, which basically didn't affect her much after five years, but some times when he accused her of over-intellect or so dirty worth burning...he'd touched a nerve.

He always knew how to get to her, as if he knew her quite well. It's as if he wanted to get to her, for some sort of game. But they had recently already established that, and he would not win. No matter how many nights him and Pansy kept her up with those ungodly activities, no matter how long he said she was dirty, no matter how long he tried to say being smart was a bad thing and no matter how much he bugged her about Harry, he wouldn't win. Lying on her bed drifting asleep she made herself that promise, he wouldn't win no matter how much he carried on.

Even if their fight lasted through Voldemort's or God forbid Harry's death, even if it was the last thing she did she would show that slimy little she was better then him, she would prove her point to that conniving, full-of-himself Malfoy...yet what Malfoy wasn't like that? As she fell asleep she started to think about Lucius and how most of this is his fault...teaching Draco such things, how to live like this in pain and nothingness, to thrive on putting others down, for believing it was okay and the only way to be. But no, now it was completely Draco's fault, he would become a death eater at 18 and he was okay with it.

Hermione knew that Draco now knew he would end up being part of Harry's death if Voldemort did not get him before he left Hogwarts. Draco would be in the inner circle, side by side with Voldemort and Lucius. Draco Malfoy had never given Hermione this information but she was more then certain of it. The known minimal age of Death Eaters was 18. His father was a death eater and she knew he acted as if he would only enjoy being killed by Voldemort's hand, as if it were some sort of honor.

Deep, _deep_ down it made Hermione feel unwell, that she had to sit back and watch Draco Malfoy's fate. She knew it so well but when they argued it was like some thing inevitable but some how not worth mentioning. There was nothing for him now, only evilness and certainty of death for him, and or death of others from him. _Oh well._ Hermione sighed in disarray. _He's a Malfoy, how could I be expecting any thing more? _


	3. The one where she isn't so ugly

The one where she isn't so ugly.

_Why does she always shower so incredibly early? It's not like she spends the remainder of that time before class doing her hair._ Yawning, Draco walked up the stairs to the Head Boy & Girl washroom. Of course they couldn't have their own washroom, and Draco always had to wait outside for her to be done. He went to pound on the wooden door, but to his astonishment it was left ajar.

He heard the shower stream, as well as her humming a tune. No doubt a muggle tune. Draco peaked his head in and saw her reaching for a towel. For some reason he couldn't tare his eyes from the site. She stepped out of the shower, covering herself just before he would have been able to see her completely nude.

"Draco! Wake UP!" Draco snapped out of his day-dream from earlier this morning at Pansy's demand. He gave a weak grin to Pansy who immediately snuggled closer to him. _My god, even in Potions class she won't let up…_

He remembered the conclusion of his early-morning shower spying. Once Granger began drying herself off, he took a few steps away from the door and said "Are you done yet mudblood? Shouldn't take too long for a girl like you,"

She hadn't responded to his words verbally, but as he turned his head and looked to her on the other side of the classroom, he saw that she had in fact responded. Her curls were lose but shiny, not frizzy at all. Her make up was simple, but she had no bags under her eyes. She sat there looking simply pleasant, diligently taking notes as she always did in one of Snape's lectures. He looked beside Granger to see her two pals Potter and Weasel chatting amongst themselves. If only they knew what Draco had come so close to seeing. If only Granger knew.

Draco let his eyes wander onto Granger's clothes to see she was wearing a skirt and a fitted blouse under her robe. Why could he not stop remembering this morning, what he'd almost seen, and what he seemed to really want to see?

"Draco!" Pansy hissed, "why are you looking over there? I'm right here," she gigged slipping her arms around his waist.

Draco snapped his head forward. He tried his hardest to focus on the lecture, but had no avail. He may have been able to keep his eyes off of her, but not his mind. Was is possible that Granger was not that ugly, but actually pretty?

**


	4. The one with the confrontation

The one with the confrontation.

Later that night, Hermione was sitting in the common room on the over stuffed black leather couch. She had been rewriting this morning's Potions notes for Ron and Harry, but this whole writing three notes for every lecture was starting to get to her. She knew Harry was worried about Voldemort, and that they had to discuss strategy, but it was a lot of weight on Hermione's shoulders to be learning it all for them. She went to put her parchment down and take a break but then she heard Malfoy and Pansy at the door.

"But Drakkieeee! It's been days!" She moaned. "Why won't you let me come in?" Malfoy mumbled something. "Tired? Hmm, well maybe I should find a man who isn't always _tired_ Draco!" Even in the common room, Hermione could hear Pansy stomp off down the hallway.

Malfoy sauntered into the room looking annoyed as hell. "What, no company this evening Drakie?" Hermione laughed. She knew she was asking for it, but she couldn't help it.

He glowered at her. He went to spit back a snide remark when he saw what she was doing. "Are you rewriting notes for those idiots again?"

Hermione snapped her book shut. "That's none of your business Malfoy."

"Yeah it is, apparently I can't take all the credit for keeping you up all the time."

"Keeping me up- you mean you- just to?" Hermione realized very quickly that for the past couple of weeks, Draco had been trying to keep her awake on purpose. "Why you awful little cockroach!" She bellowed.

Draco laughed, "come on Granger, we got duty."

Hermione was too mad to look at Malfoy, but she had to do her evening duty. They walked around the school together every night to make sure there were no stragglers out past curfew. Tonight the hallways were empty and quiet. In the midst of the hallways, Hermione's thoughts ran wild. Why would he do such a thing? He hates me that much that he enjoys keeping me up at night with that sad excuse for a witch?

Hermione was trying to be a good friend for Harry and Ron. Help them keep up their notes while they discussed strategy in class. The night's that she spent out late, or even missing duty sometimes was to help Harry catch up. Ron, she wasn't as concerned about. Harry was the one who would have to face off against Voldemort, and anything Hermione could do to help, she did.

So every night when Hermione finished writing all the extra notes for them, she'd attempt sleep, but could next to never reach it with Pansy's nonstop screams.

"Do you even like her?"

Draco was startled at the break in the silence, "excuse me?"

"Pansy, do you even like her, or is that how far you're willing to go to make my life miserable?"

"You make your own life miserable Granger. Don't need my help. I'm just sort of like the icing on top of the cake that is your miserable life,"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

Draco came to a stop. The only light around them was the moon light streaming out from behind Draco's head. "You're a mudblood, you're only friends take advantage of you and you spend all of your free time just rewriting notes for them. Sure Potter pleases you from time to time, but I can't say I've seen you smile yet this year."

Hermione turned on her foot and looked at him. "Pleases me? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with me Granger. All those times you're late, or absent for our duty?"

It took Hermione a moment to find her words. She glared right into his icey eyes. "I spend that time helping him STUDY the notes I write for him. The only reason I have to do that is because of people like you and your father and Voldemort," Draco flinched at the name. "And the reason I haven't smiled all year is because I'm stuck living with a pure evil pureblood wizard." Draco's face was hard as stone. Her eyes glistened with water, but she held it all back. "Finish the walk yourself Malfoy."

And just like that, she strode away leaving him in the darkness under the moonlight.


	5. The one with the realization

The one with the realization.

_Pure evil. Pure blood and pure evil. That's what she thinks I am. _Draco slowly finished the walk himself, hearing her words over and over again in his mind. _That mudblood doesn't know a thing about me._ Draco paced by himself in the hallway.

_It's easy for her to talk. Her father's business associates don't mean certain death for her. She thinks I like living in a house where murders are committed. Of course, how could she ever think any thing different? I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. If any one were to ever consider me any thing other than evil, I'd be tortured and killed as easily as a muggle. _

Draco pressed his back against the wall and let himself slide down to the floor. He looked at his hands, and wondered when he would be expected to kill with them. Everyone thinks the minimal age for a death eater is 18. For Draco that was only a couple months away, in January to be exact. But at the end of the summer, he overheard his parents arguing.

_"He's just a boy Lucius!"_

_"A boy who will be of great use to the dark lord, the sooner the better."_

_There was a slap, "I love you Lucius, even with this secret dark life I've had to lead, but how dare you raise our son to suffer the same?"_

_"Narcissa, the next time you raise your hand to me for following the dark lords orders, I will not hesitate to raise mine back at you. This is not suffering, this is honor."_

Draco shuddered against the stone wall, remembering his fathers voice. He couldn't have always been so evil towards his mother… this is what happened to men who followed the dark lord, they even turned against those they loved. Not that Draco had anyone to love or be loved to in return, but his mother. It sickened Draco to think he might become his father. And all he could think about were those words his father uttered, "The sooner the better."

Draco's stomach sank at the thought. As if January wasn't soon enough. It was October at the moment; Draco had only a few months left. How could his father intervene before that? He decided he had at least until December, when he would be going home for Christmas.

As he sat there, bottling up his fear of the future, he began to realize how right Hermione Granger was. She was right that he was evil, or at least she had every right to think he was. Draco didn't know any thing he could do to prevent his fate, nor was he trying to consider a way out of it. How could he without dying?

If he went along with it, he would be the cause of other people's dying, that he knew for certain. The best way to become a death eater is to kill at Voldemort's will, or follow the blood line of people who do. _Wizards, witches, muggles….they will all die by my hand, starting with the ones who follow Potter. I would have to kill purebloods, mudbloods, everyone including her…_of course killing a mudblood was an honor, according to his dad. Then again everything else evil, murder and hatred- it was all an honor in the name of Voldemort.

Draco stood up and began walking back to the common room. When he came in her stuff was out of the common room and her bedroom door was definitely closed. Before she had went and said anything, he had been able to hide behind his fate by arguing with her and finding new ways to annoy her. Now his fate was clear, and there was no one to argue with. He walked up to her door, placed his palm on the door and whispered, "Damn you Granger,".


End file.
